Sometimes

I wonder if I am

A shard of glass

Safely disposed

Away from any exposed flesh

A burning ember separated

From dry cotton

It wishes it gets to know

A little too intimately

For a fleeting second

A malignant tumour

Discovered early

Before it could cut short

A mother's warmth

 

Is feeling a little incomplete

Really that bad

Is it such a tragedy

To wander the Earth yearning

For your missing half

To complete you

To complete what?

Maybe the little sadnesses

Sometimes

Are a bit deserved